


touches of ice (breaths of fire)

by cassandor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: (mentioned) - Freeform, Canon Compliant, During Canon, Fluff and Angst, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Leia Organa, Gen, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Spooky, Young Leia Organa, but not really, space moms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 15:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21304247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassandor/pseuds/cassandor
Summary: Her mother's told her stories.Fairytales, mostly, but there was one about a princess who lay dying on a mountain, the blood flowing out of her colouring the snow the red of Alderaan's sunset. She'd climbed up there all on her own, but she'd made a misstep and fallen, and the rocks stole the wind from her lungs. But as she lay there, the spirits of the past visited her, whispering to her words of courage and hope, reminders of her duties as princess and as a daughter of Alderaan.Her mother believed in ghosts, at least, on her deathbed. It only made sense for them to visit after her demise.
Relationships: Bail Organa & Breha Organa, Bail Organa & Breha Organa & Leia Organa, Bail Organa & Leia Organa, Breha Organa & Leia Organa, Cassian Andor & Leia Organa, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	touches of ice (breaths of fire)

**Author's Note:**

> A late Halloween fic!  
A prequel to my Finn-centric fic with a little nod to it at the end, but you can read this first.

The matter is brought to Breha’s attention by one of the nannies, as most issues are.

Breha is a doting mother, but she is also Queen of one of the wealthiest planets in the galaxy. Both in credits and culture, and each come with their own varied nuances. Bail is better off in that respect, able to shrug off Senatorial duties during the recess and spend as much time as he’d like with their daughter. After all, minding the heir was part of a royal consort’s mandate. But to dismiss Bail's workload would be unfair when he, the only of them free of the burden of Alderaan's throne, devoted all his spare time to un-Imperial pursuits. Pursuits which Breha demanded, without words - for words were treacherous in the Empire, even for royalty - to know nothing about. Pursuits that meant the most sensitive of Alderaan's secrets stayed with the Queen, and not her consort. 

Sometimes she just wished they weren’t sensitive in the literal sense.

“She was talking to air,” the nanny whispers to her in the corridor, Breha's attendants dismissed. “I saw it, not once, but twice, and so did one of the new hires-”

“Will she speak?” Breha asks, despite knowing the answer. Serving Alderaan’s royalty was the greatest honour to any Alderaani. Betraying the throne, even through simple gossip about an infant daughter, would be unthinkable. If it wasn't for that conviction, Breha is sure Bail wouldn't have taken the risk to move against the Empire. Still, prudence was needed, and she wasn’t going to allow the nannies worries to reach his ears. 

“Absolutely not. She will take it to her grave, and I will put her there sooner if you wish.”

Breha raises a hand. “No need. It is natural for children to play with imaginary friends. Stifling her creativity now will only harm her talents later.”

The nanny sniffs. “Of course, your highness.” She bows and leaves Breha to continue on her solitary walk to Leia's playroom. Breha has a thousand better things to do than stand silent watch by a door, but Leia ranks above them all. She stills at the doorframe and peers in, a mother instead of a Queen.

Leia plays in a stream of sunlight, grabbing at dust motes and staring wide-eyed at the birds fluttering by the window. She wouldn’t normally be left unattended like this, with her penchant for escaping and getting in to trouble, but Breha’s already sent her minders in the hopes that Leia’s imaginary friend will reveal itself to be, well, imaginary. She takes in a deep breath. But if it's something else... Bail had never told her who Leia’s parents were. He did, however, quietly tell her one night that there was a chance their daughter would grow to be Force sensitive. Breha had her suspicions, but if they were true, it was better that she never knew.

Leia’s sock clad feet slip on the marble floors. 

Breha moves, but isn’t fast enough to catch her. Her heart leaps into her throat, Leia's name clinging to her lips. Miraculously, Leia hasn’t fallen, but caught herself midair - in an angle impossible to have been anything but the doing of the Force. At least, this is what Breha thinks this is what she sees. The truth is something else. 

Leia tilts her head, peering at the empty space where only sunlight sits. 

“I will,” she replies to thin air, with all the might of a child’s lisp. Breha clasps a hand over her mouth as Leia shifts, as if someone else had caught her and was now propping her back up. A Queen could not entertain herself with fairytales, but a woman who'd once lay dying in the embrace of mountain snow believed anything was possible. 

Her daughter has ghosts. 

* * *

To Breha's relief, Leia stops talking to thin air once she begins official schooling. Whether it was the tight grip of the system on her mind or Leia's powers growing weaker, she wasn't sure. But as the years pass, so do Breha's concerns, and soon enough they've slipped away to nothing. Leia is a whip-smart Senator with a sharp tongue that brings Breha as much joy as it does headaches. 

And then, one sunny morning, Bail comms her on their private, secure line.

"I'm returning without Leia."

That only meant one thing.

"Bail-" Breha starts, already knowing any attempt would be futile. Bail would never, ever risk the life of the daughter they'd waited to have for years. So if he'd decided to send her on a mission not under the protective cover of Imperial business, it had to be worth it. By the solemness of his voice, Breha knew it was. 

“It’s time. I’ve sent her to find him.”

* * *

Leia sits on her bunk in the temple for the last time. It's odd, how Yavin has grown to be a home, even more so in the days after the destruction of the Death Star - and her home planet. 

She sighs, arms around her knees. At least she'll be able to return if she wants to.

She doesn't know what comes next. This is the greatest victory the Rebel Alliance has ever seen, and yet it's come with great sacrifice. Leia's made friends, real friends, but lost her entire family. The only thing she's been able to do is do whatever's asked of her, whatever is necessary. But now, with a moment to sit and think, all she feels is helpless.

Leia shudders, feeling cold.

She tugs her sheets around her, sleep having left her long ago, when she hears a faint cough.

Leia looks up and is startled to see a familar face watching her. 

"You snuck up on me," she snaps, at first, then - then she realizes. "You shouldn't be here."

Cassian shakes his head. "I shouldn't." His lips twitch. "Maybe I should've knocked. Still used to sneaking around."

Leia stares at him.

"They said you died. Were they lying? Are you going to be a ghost agent of some kind now?" 

Cassian arches an eyebrow at her. "You could say that." He huffs, a half-laugh, a hollow ringing of air, filled with familar self-deprecating sarcasm. But lighter, too, almost unrecognizable for it. 

The blood drains from Leia's face. She pinches herself.

This is not a dream. 

Her mother's told her stories. Fairytales, mostly, but there was one about a princess who lay dying on a mountain, the blood flowing out of her colouring the snow the red of Alderaan's sunset. She'd climbed up there all on her own, but she'd made a misstep and fallen, and the rocks stole the wind from her lungs. But as she lay there, the spirits of the past visited her, whispering to her words of courage and hope, reminders of her duties as princess and as a daughter of Alderaan. The last of them to visit was a friend who'd passed years earlier, and she'd pressed her lips to her mouth, setting her lungs aflame and keeping the cold away, giving her enough breath to live until help arrived. Leia didn't realize the truth of it until she was preparing for her own trials, and made the connection between the reddish glow of her mother's bare chest and the dying princess. 

Her mother believed in ghosts, at least, on her deathbed. It only made sense for them to visit after her demise. 

The expression on Cassian’s face changes, to what, Leia's not sure, it's as unreadable as ever. He steps towards her bunk. Leia sits up, but too afraid to glance down at where his feet should be. She keeps her gaze on his face. 

"Cassian," she says, her voice twisted high like she's about to cry, kark it. She might be. She knows him, knows him well, Draven's best agent, her father's favourite, a name listed in a hundred reports and implied in many more. The others taught her skills. He taught her the rules of the mental game, the rules she held on to, tightly, on that cold, cold bunk on the Death Star. The grim realities of life, only truly understood when they came from the life and looks of exasperation of the next-youngest person in the room. "You-how-"

"I don't know." As always, it's the answer she needs, not wants. 

He perches on her bunk, a respectful distance away from her, but close enough Leia can tell he's unnaturally cold. No, not cold. Just not warm. She sets her face in her hands.

"Why?" 

She's not sure what she's asking about. Why her? Why him? Why not the other way around? Why not someone else?

"I had a feeling about you. I always did."

Leia feels like she should have a witty retort. _Really? Even when you had to baby-sit? _But all she can do is stare, and choke out more names.

"Why not Luke? He's, he's a Jedi, he - why me?" 

“I never met Luke.” Cassian sighs. "It was easy, coming here. To you." 

“But Draven?”

Cassian cracks a smile, and Leia feels this must be a dream, because she’s never seen him do that, not for something that was only a simple statement. He wouldn't reveal himself like this, so easily. But it only makes more sense. “Too practical.”

“Mothma?”

He wrinkles his nose and Leia can't help but smile a little at that. “Anyone else?”

She shakes her head. "Why you, though? Why not-" _Papa_ is next on her lips, where her smile is buried. The word slithers down her throat like poison. Shavit. She lifts her face from her hands and looks at Cassian, who's looking at her with an open earnestness she can't remember if she ever saw in life. She tries to remind herself they died the same way, not knowing if she'd succeeded. At least Cassian knew she had. Maybe that meant Papa did, too. 

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

Leia swallows. What can she say? She can't hurt him, even if he was just a ghost - Force above - because she'd rather him than a stranger, or nobody at all, but - 

"He's so, so proud of you, Leia." Cassian reaches out but doesn't touch her, only rests his hand by her foot on the bed. She wonders if his touch would be cold, or hot, or nothing at all, the question keeping the tears at bay. "We all are."

"I'm sorry," she says, when she's able to speak and look at him again. "We should've sent more help in, and sooner." Cassian shakes his head.

"I knew what I was getting into. We all did. And I spent a lot of time wishing we could've acted sooner. Saved Jedha, Alderaan. But there's no changing all that now." His gaze is distant, and Leia reflects that she doesn't know much about him at all. "We did what we could." He tilts his head at her. "And that's all you need to remember."

Leia smiles at him, sad but a weight lifted. These were their cards, moving forward, and it was up to the living to play with what they've been delt. The dead can only watch.

She doesn't ask him to stay, to help, because frankly he seems as confused about the whole thing as she is. But they talk for hours, mostly advice Leia's actually willing to follow, ironically, and a few jabs at the disastrous rescue mission they agreed would've been far more efficient if Cassian had been the one to do it. But then Yavin's sun fills her window, and something at the back of her mind tells Leia that this visit is over.

“Will you come back?” 

“I’ll come if you need me,” he says, “at least, I'll try. But I doubt you will.”

She nods, wanting to reach out and cover his hand with hers. 

"May the Force be with you." 

* * *

Luke decides to tell her when she's pregnant. 

Well, he starts with Ben first, because she already knew most of that story. His voice had reached him over Yavin, then he'd seen him on Dagobah, then again on Endor. Leia liked hearing those stories of Luke's time on Dagobah, mostly because contrasting the curious little creature Luke had first come across with the formidable leader of the Jedi Order her father had told her about was more than merely amusing. It's during these talks that Leia realizes she knows the tales of Obi Wan better than Luke does, so they set up several chats over hot chocolate - not caf, tragically - to muse about the oddities of their lives and the galaxy.

Which is when he brings up the man once known as Anakin Skywalker. Their biological father, the reason the Force sings in her veins and in his. The reason, too, for every upheaval in her life. 

"I'm not naming the baby after him. I'd rather name him after Ben." 

"I won't ask you to do that. I'm not even suggesting it. But Ben is a nice name, actually." Luke sighs. "I won't ask you to forgive our... him, either. It's not easy and I don't expect that from you. Not after all he's done. I just... you mentioned seeing Force ghosts, and I've been looking into the phenomena, and... and I thought I should tell you I saw him on Endor." 

Leia blinks. The realization dawns on her. All this build up. Poor Luke. "You saw him again, didn't you? Recently?" 

Luke takes a quick sip from his mug. Leia chews at her lip. She doesn't know what she'd do if he showed up in front of her. Scream at him, probably. Throw something. Tell him to go kriff himself. Rage cry that her non-Force sensitive, _actual_ father wasn't able to see his grandchild, and that was also all his own fault.

It was likely why the kriffing sleemo hadn't appeared to her. Good for him. 

"He asked about me, didn't he? Did he want to say _sorry_ for everything he did?" Leia thinks about how she'd reacted when Luke had shared Vader's parting words for her. Kark that man, wanting to best her even in death, even _after_ he found out she was - well. Kark him for telling her exactly what she needed to hear, not wanted. 

"He-," Luke stars, then stops. "Will you be more mad if I tell you what he said, or mad if I don't tell you?"

Leia sighs and leans back in her chair, hands crossing over her belly. "You brought him up. Face the consequences." 

"He... he said he's proud of you. I-I know it's weird, coming from, well, you know, but..." Luke suddenly finds more interested in the murky brown contents of his mug. "Rats." 

Leia rolls her eyes. "Well, if he comes calling again, tell him I didn't ask, and to stay away from the baby."

Luke sighs. "That was a lot better than what I expected." 

Leia bites her lip and runs her thumb over the handle of her mug. She can't get mad at her brother, not at his wide, earnest eyes and unblemished kindness that managed to forgive the man who cut off his hand, killed his parental figures, and sent the galaxy into darkness. Blast. But her anger would be a normal reaction. So she changes the topic.

"You remember you asked about our mother? Back on Endor?"

Luke sits up, grateful and intrigued. "Yes. You said you remembered her, which wouldn't make sense since we were separated at birth, according to your father's documents. Unless-" 

Leia nods. "I went back to Naboo and saw a holo of her. Not in her royal clothes, just common attire. And it sparked something in me. I think... I think she used to watch over me as a kid. Maybe you, too." 

Luke stares at her, and in that moment, both the suns of Tatooine feel cold. 

* * *

* * *

"I"ve been talking to him," Cassian says quietly. "I wasn't going to interfere, but I felt something change." 

"So you only came to me after you talked to him. Forgotten all your old friends, have you?" Leia jokes, but there is only truth in her words. Cassian hadn't appeared when Ben turned. Not when Han died. But when Finn and Rey stepped on board her ship.

Cassian's curtained gaze flicks upwards at her from where he's sitting on her table. "That's out of the question, Leia. But I can't describe it. It's as if a curtain was pulled and the light came in. Something awakened, and then I was here. It didn't take me long to figure out what I was supposed to do." 

Leia spends a moment taking a deep breath and studying the lines of Cassian's face. An unchanging map that's only become easier to read. Her own, however, has only gained depth. Sadness, yes, but she's seen immeasurable joy as well. A flicker of that rests on her lips. 

"And then you stopped by here for a chat, showing up in my room just as I walked in. You'd've scared the living daylights out of me if you hadn't pulled that before." 

Cassian presses his lips together. "I thought I should let you know you're not the only one who's offered advice by ghosts dropping by."

"He's going to come see me as soon as he figures it out."

As if on cue, Leia's senses twitch. Cassian glances towards her door, and then - a knock.

"You couldn't've told me earlier?" Leia says, and Cassian shrugs. 

"You're the advice-giver now."

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this on Halloween, IDK why I thought I could finish it on the same day. Anyways I hope everyone had a tastefully spooky weekend! My headcanon is that Leia remembers Padme bc she saw her in a vision of some kind :)


End file.
